


Steam

by bactaqueen



Category: AFI
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the day, the little things melt away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steam

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.
> 
> Author’s Note: Originally posted September 2006.

It hadn’t been a bad show, but it had been a long day. All the little things had built up, manifested as strange awkward hurt in his shoulders and back and in his temples until his vision was dangerously blurry and he had to close his eyes. But it was better now with the pounding heat of the shower and the steam curling up around him. That was the best thing about these hotels: there was always enough hot water.  
  
Hunter took slow deep breaths and focused. The little things added up in here, too. They made something greater. It was the feel of the cool slick tile under his palm, the steam licking his skin, the water streaming down his spine and over the curve of his ass, the weight of his hard cock in his hand. It was the clean smells of soap and wet skin, the soothing white noise of the water swirling down the drain, the rise and fall of his own chest with each breath he measured, the satisfying friction of his palm and his fingers up and down his cock. He watched the darkness dance in red and blue behind his eyelids and he took pleasure as he found it in the act.  
  
A sharp gust of cold air hit his back; Hunter tensed reflexively. He didn’t open his eyes even when the calloused fingertips and the rounded ends of long nails slid across his shoulders and down his back, circling his waist and finding the flat of his abdomen. Hunter leaned into the body that pressed against him as fingers combed the hair low on his belly and trailed lower. Soft lips and a cold metal ring touched his neck, his shoulder. Hunter sighed. The body behind him pressed tight, planes and hollows fitting beautifully against him.   
  
Davey ran his hand up Hunter’s side, from his hip all the way up his arm. Hunter shifted his weight and lifted his hand and when Davey linked their fingers, Hunter squeezed gently. Just more of the little things. Davey bowed his head over Hunter’s shoulder and Hunter felt the brush of that new haircut wet against his skin, welcome. His focus moved down and he felt Davey’s bare slick chest against his back, felt his hard cock against the crack of his ass, tense, flexing with the effort of restraint.   
  
Nails scraped his back and he shivered. Davey’s knuckles rubbed the small of his back, right there in that hypersensitive dip, and then Davey’s lips parted and the sigh flowed over his wet skin.   
  
Hunter slowed his hand on his cock, taking his cues from the man pressed behind him, the strength and motion of his fingers. His head fell back and his stubbly cheek caught against Davey’s. He was all senses, acutely and completely; there was nothing but the feel, the sound, the scent, the taste. He matched Davey's pace and rhythm as he stroked his own cock, wanted to time this so they could share the end. Davey’s lips touched his shoulder again and again in careless kisses and their bodies moved together. He squeezed their linked fingers and listened to the catch of Davey’s breath as they both drew close.   
  
It was sharp, sudden release.   
  
The shower spray was relentless. They leaned against each other, Davey wrapped around him, fingers still linked. The water slid between them, around them, washed them clean. Hunter brought their hands down and laid them on his belly. He breathed deeply and didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. He focused on every inch of Davey’s wet skin pressed against him, on the slide of Davey’s wet hair on his shoulder, on Davey’s open mouth against his neck. A sigh slipped from his lips.  
  
It’s the little things.  


End file.
